The gipsy nodded significantly.
“Tell me when I can see you without fear of interruption. I’ve something to tell you; but it’s likely enough you’ve a bit to tell me.”
“May I trust you?”
“You may, as heaven is my judge.”
“On Thursday next the doctor will be away. He has to attend a patient in the country. You can see me on that day any time after five. But, hush! that’s his footstep.”
And with these words Mrs. Bourne hurried back into the front room. She had done so but just in time, for the doctor ascended the stairs immediately after she had disappeared, and, putting his head into the room where the gipsy was, he said, in a loud, pompous tone—
“I shall not have time to attend to you to-day, my man; so you had better call again. Do you hear?”
“Oh, yes; I hear, sir,” returned Bill. “I will call to-morrow or next day, whichever will suit you best.”
“Either will suit me; but I am busy just now.”
Bill Rawton passed out of the house. When he gained the street he saw that there was an open carriage at the front door of Bourne’s house. In this was seated a fashionably-dressed lady.